In like a Lion
As usual March came in like a lion with raging rain storms full of lightning and thunder and swirling high winds. Today was no exception. Steve was busy with a project so I had gone to see my best friend who lived about a seven hour drive away from our home. Violet and I had been best friends in high school and remained so to this day.
After I arrived we spent a few glorious days together visiting old haunts and even meeting and spending time with some old friends. On the spur of the moment I asked Violet if she would like to come spend a week or two with Steve and I. Violet was excited at the prospect and readily agreed since her husband, who was in the Army, was currently deployed outside the country.
Violet and I had started out early the next morning since we wanted to get a jump on the long trip. Just a few hours later I found myself fighting to keep our SUV on the road in the midst of strong gusting winds and a torrential downpour.
For the past half hour we had been searching for a gas station as I watched the needle on the gas gauge creep slowly toward that big "E". Finally, I spotted what looked like a small country store with a couple of gas pumps out front.
I slowly pulled up next to the pumps as the rain continued to come down at a dreadful rate. We had not bothered to check the weather before we left so naturally I had not packed any rain gear and since the weather was unseasonably warm I had not even packed a jacket for the seven hour drive.
So we sat in the car hoping for the rain to stop or for someone to come out and with rain gear and pump the gas for us. No such luck. After about ten minutes it was clear that no one was going to come out and help us. Violet had not had any more foresight than I did and had come out without any type of jacket too.
I finally decided to bite the bullet and just go pump the gas. We had to get going and two things were clear. The rain was not going to stop any time soon and no one was going to come to our rescue.
Reluctantly I opened the car door and stepped out into utter chaos. I was immediately soaked to the skin, my hair whipping around wildly as I fumbled with the older gas pump. I lost precious time searching for the slot for my credit card before realizing that there was none.
I removed the gas cap and managed to pull the gas hose loose and insert it into the gas tank inlet. I squeezed the handle and nothing happened. No gas! Thankfully I remembered pumping gas for my dad when I was a kid and I vaguely recalled that there was a lever on the side of the pump to turn it on. After some more fumbling around I finally found the lever and flipped it up. This time when I squeezed the handle I was rewarded with the sound of gasoline gurgling down into the gas tank.
A few minutes later I replaced the hose nozzle and opened the car door. Dripping water everywhere I fumbled in my purse for my credit card while Violet simply watched me with her mouth hanging open speechless. Although I did not understand why she was looking me that way I had not time to stop and ask.
Slamming the car door I turned and headed for the front door of the store. When I glanced up I caught sight of a smiling face peering at me through the front glass window. I stomped into the store intending to wipe the smile off of that black face and immediately stopped in my tracks.
The store was just a small place with a glass topped counter with a selection of candy bars underneath. To my right against the wall was a rack holding a selection of chips and other bagged snacks. Behind the counter another rack was mounted on the wall holding a selection of cigarettes, cigars and snuff.
To my left was a small room with a small card table and a heater. Three men were seated there holding cards and staring at me. The fourth seat had apparently been occupied by the man with the smiling face who now stood behind the counter smiling and staring at me like the others. What was the matter with these people? Was it possible that they had never seen a woman who was soaking wet and madder than hell?
Slowly I turned to look at the three men at the table and it seemed like their smiles actually grew wider if that was possible. Shaking my head I stepped up to the counter to pay for my gas. This gave me an opportunity to look into a mirror that had been mounted on the wall between the racks of cigarettes that I had not noticed before.
I had expected to see a bedraggled blond with wet hair, running makeup and a soaking wet blouse. I was somewhat shocked by what I actually saw. I wasn't wearing a bra as usual so my thin tan blouse looked like a second skin. The real shock was that my blouse had turned almost transparent and it almost looked as if I were standing there topless.
Now I knew why Violet had looked at me the way she did and why the proprietor of the store continued to stare at me.
You could clearly see my dark pointy nipples with the heavy circular barbell nipple rings. But that wasn't the worst of it. With the material plastered to my body and nearly transparent anyone who looked at me could clearly make out the words "Black Owned" tattooed over my nipples.
Suddenly I realized what was causing that huge grin on the black proprietor and the other three men at the table. My day was about to get much more interesting whether I wanted it to or not because both my husband and I really took the meaning of those words seriously. In fact we were so serious about it that my husband Steve had been there and held me tightly in place when the words were tattooed into my skin.
I was jolted from my thoughts by the sound of the proprietor's voice as he said "Hello there Honey Pot. What can we do for you today?"
"I . . I need to pay for my gas so that I can get back on my way home" I said hoping to make a quick exit.
"Why Honey Pot you look chilled to the bone" he said reaching for my hand. "Why don't you come over here by the heater and take the chill off?"
He took my hand and led me over to a small heater. He looked me up and down one more time and then stepped behind me. I felt the warmth from the heater and then a different kind of heat as he reached around me and cupped my breasts.
I stood there as his hands caressed and massaged my breasts. My nipples had already been hard and puckered from the chill but his long black fingers made them rise to attention even more as he pinched and tweaked them pulling on them at the same time.
"You really shouldn't be doing that" I said. "I'm a married woman."
He just chuckled as those talented fingers began to unbutton my blouse. "Honey Pot if you are married I'm sure that your husband is well aware of what it means when a woman is tattooed as a Black Owned whore. I bet that he's watched you take a black cock before hasn't he?"
Unable to speak I simply nodded my head as he finished with the last button and pulled the tail of my blouse out of my skirt waist. I trembled as his big black hands wandered freely over the soft white flesh of my breasts.
